


well damn i didn't ask for the cutest delivery boy but here you are

by ayushi_writes



Series: soft connor??? [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: M/M, Make, a tag that can be filtered on, also background zolana/galaxy gals because i love them did i mention, connor my boi, he soft, i just Live for soft connor okay, i wrote this instead of studying validate me, soft connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayushi_writes/pseuds/ayushi_writes
Summary: "Connor, as it turns out, has eyes that are really dark blue, so they kind of look like dark brown if you're not looking closely. Which, you know. Evan isn't. Doing."pizza boi connor murphy: needs more fanfic





	well damn i didn't ask for the cutest delivery boy but here you are

**Author's Note:**

> not my first fanfic ever but we don't talk about the 2011 fanfiction.net profile
> 
> deh!!! probably ooc but yea
> 
> you will pry the tap dancing pizza boi connor murphy headcanon from my cold dead hands
> 
> I TAKE CREDIT FOR THIS HC I SENT IN THE REQUESTS FOR IT OKA Y  
> (tho i got it from this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10763505/chapters/23870112 and i jsut fell in love and took it way too far)
> 
> i realize that this is like waayyyy too similar to the fics already done on this. fuck just go check them out they're much many better
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10865607
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10871334

Being a somewhat-halfway-decent-kinda-good son, Evan Hansen acknowledges and appreciates that his mother works long, grueling shifts, day and night, and is therefore not always home for family dinner every night. Since getting his own part-time job, Evan's guilt at being a constant financial and emotional burden on his mother has been alleviated ever so slightly now that he's doing _something_ that pays the bills. And as for family dinner, well, the $20 bill Heidi leaves in stead of her own presence most nights has this tendency of putting Evan on edge, merely from all the implications brought about by having to order and pay for food himself. 

What with the two being unable to celebrate Mothers' Day on the actual date, Evan's actually been planning out a surprise— he probably didn't get his own dislike of surprises from his mom. Practicing cooking in secret and feverishly researching recipes with not-ludicrous ingredients— seriously, is kale even _real?_ — has led to him managing to pull off a pot roast that he's pretty proud of.

Of course, the day he's all set to demonstrate his newfound kitchen expertise, Claudia-from-the-ward-over is seized with a sudden, violent stomach bug, and as Heidi apologizes profusely to him from the other end of the line he feels his stomach sink, then feels guilty for being upset because his mom is covering for a longtime friend and anyways he can show her the pot roast thing later and it's _fine_ Mom, don't worry there's always next Sunday, yeah, I love you too, I'll order for myse- wait.

Evan is left a little petrified as he eyes his now-silent phone, as though expecting it to ring again and Heidi chirping that they have leftover takeout in the fridge and it's those veggie spring rolls that he likes and he's spared another few minutes of disastrous socialization attempts.

As fate would have it, the only sound that breaks the silence is his phone buzzing with a notification from Instagram— @alanabee just posted a picture— and of course it's a selfie of her kissing Zoe on the cheek. Those two have turned out to be one of those couples that'll post just a little too many candid pictures of the other, captioned with multiple heart eyes emojis or some shit. Evan half-believes they do it ironically, but he's really in no position to judge other's relationships.

 _Might as well get it over with._ Evan pulls up and taps through the all-too-familiar website (medium cheese with mushrooms and garlic sauce), placing his order before he can overthink himself into yet another night of near-starvation and stale Pop-Tarts. 

Now, the wait.

After pacing around the living room for a bit, Evan decides on swishing around some mouthwash and combing his hair into something a little more presentable— even if it was going to be about two minutes of face-to-face interaction max, he doesn't want to come across as a horrendously lonely slob. Despite that being, well, not too far from the truth.

All too soon, the doorbell is ringing and Evan springs up from his awkwardly sprawled position on the couch. Money in hand, he makes his way to the door, fingers twitching with nervousness and resulting in him flinging open the door with a little too much force. Internally, he winces. Externally, he plasters a definitely-normal-functional-teenager smile as he makes eye contact with the pizza delivery person and— wow.

Unbidden, Evan's mind wanders to that one tumblr post about that person who put in "send your cutest delivery boy" for special requests— not that Evan would ever do that, thank you very much, he'd probably sound like an asshole and end up with a pissed-off delivery person and he really doesn't need negative opinions being formed about him before he even manages to fuck up in front of them in real life and. Speaking of which.

"C-Connor?"

Of course Evan knows Connor Murphy, everyone knows Connor Murphy— anger issues, throwing printers, smoking pot, and winning second place in the middle school talent show for a tap routine. Or maybe it's just Evan who remembers that bit because he's a weirdo who remembers minuscule details that freak other people out when he mentions them, just further proof that he just shouldn't talk ever and. 

Damn. 

Maybe it's a Murphy thing to have really. Pretty faces.

Something that Evan hadn't really noticed about Connor before— of course, anyone could spot that ridiculous _glass-cutting_ jawline from a mile away, but most of his face was usually covered by that tangled brown mess that was currently. Pulled into a ponytail through the back of the stupid pizza place hat that looked really, really adorable and Connor is talking Evan _focus_.

"Kevin, right? We have AP Lang together?"

Connor's smiling this little half-smile that doesn't really seem like a fake customer service smile, but doesn't look like any expression Evan's seen on Connor before. It kind of makes Evan feel like he's in on a joke rather than being the butt of it for once. Nevertheless, Evan flushes as he attempts to correct him.

"Um, sorry, actually, it's uh— "

"I'm just messing with you, dude. You're Evan Hansen."

How does Connor know his name? Evan racks his brain for anything particularly mortifying he's done in the past few weeks that'd still be lingering in a witness's memory.

Connor laughs a little— actually laughs— and it's a really nice sound and Evan's starting to think there's a lot of really nice things about Connor Murphy that he may have missed in the past few years of kinda-knowing him. "You won, like, a writing competition and Mrs. Handler was gushing about your essay for like, half the period."

"Oh, yeah. Haha."

Silence that's starting to become awkward.

"A-and, um, I know your name from. AP Lang. Too. Although, like, I mean, you are, uh, well-known, um."

Connor's face seems to close off a little. "For what exactly?"

 _Fuck. Fuck._ "I-I mean you won! S-second place in the middle school talent show! Tap dancing, right?"

ABORT. ABORT.

His nose scrunches up a little at Evan's barely-coherent response. "You— you remember that?"

Evan can feel his face steadily growing redder, his breath coming a little bit shorter, though not quite in panic-attack territory. "Sorry, that was weird, I don't know I'll just remember. Stuff and not like in a creepy way it's just, I. Sorry."

"Um, it's cool. Didn't think anyone really cared. I think the medal's somewhere in my closet. You know, those shitty participation prizes." Connor shifts the pizza, balancing it on his other arm. 

Evan glances up at him, face still uncomfortably warm.

Connor, as it turns out, has eyes that are really dark blue, so they kind of look like dark brown if you're not looking closely. Which, you know. Evan isn't. Doing.

The iPhone Ringtone™ starts playing, startling both of them. Connor wedges the box between his arm and torso before pulling his phone out of his back pocket. "The fuck you want now, Zo?" Despite his kind of annoyed tone, Connor's lips are still turned up at the corners. Which soon disappears at the next few words spoken. "Yeah, yeah, tell Mom my shift ends soon. Be there in like half an hour."

He hangs up, and Evan immediately starts apologizing for wasting his time, only to be cut off yet again. "Seriously, it's fine. Zoe can excuse lateness as long as the excuse is a cute guy." Wink.

And.

Evan's brain kind of. Stops.

Because this _male-model ass_ pizza guy just called him _cute._

"Oh, um." Words, Evan, use your words. "Th-thanks, that's nice of you to say, uh, sorry though for holding you up anyway, here!" The last word is punctuated by Evan thrusting the bill out to Connor, who accepts it with a barely raised eyebrow.

And. As Connor counts out change, Evan finds himself being regaled with a story about how one time Zoe apparently set up a bucket of condensed milk to fall over on Connor when he walked into the house hours late after curfew, the resulting absolute mess that led to the Murphy parents getting mad at both of the siblings, and Evan thinks this is the least stressed he's ever been about the whole delivery-person-making-change scenario.

Evan ends up handing back like half the change as a tip, at which Connor winks again (!!!!) and tucks into his pocket. 

"Well, if you need a pizza or awkward reminiscences on middle school memories, you know which pizza chain to call." That little half-smile again, accompanied with the dorkiest little tip of the cap. "See you around, Hansen."

"Y-yeah, see ya." Evan mumbles his next words in a rush. "And for the record, I guess pizza's worth waiting for if the excuse is a cute guy too."

Catching a glimpse of Connor's shocked face, Evan awkwardly smiles and waves before shutting the door and sinking down to the ground against it.

Okay. So.

Not too much of a disaster?

Who the hell is he kidding. Evan's going to be ordering from this pizza chain again, and goddammit he'll embarrass himself again too.

Maybe it's just because of the garlic sauce. Or the fantastic customer service.

**Author's Note:**

> there you go i wrote this instead of studying for finals like everyone else which i prESUME is why the archive is so barren. stop ur academics rn nd go update them fics lads.
> 
> please. i just. comments are really great it's like you did a thing and someone liked it enough to tell you with words they liked it pleas comment
> 
> fucken yea


End file.
